


When Worlds Collide

by schizonephilim



Series: Redemption for the Fallen [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Kyra, Canon-Typical Violence, Carthage - Freeform, Castiel is a Good Friend, Dean is a Little Shit, Ellen & Jo Live, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s05e10 Abandon All Hope..., F/M, Gabriel doesn't want to fight, Gabriel is a cinnamon roll, Gen, Hellhounds, Holy Fire, In-Universe Supernatural Fanfiction, Kyra is a nephilim, Language, Nephilim banishing sigil, Nightmares, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Protective Castiel, Season/Series 05, Secret Relationship, The Colt (Supernatural), The Colt doesn't work on Lucifer, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 04:57:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11936784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizonephilim/pseuds/schizonephilim
Summary: When the Winchesters call Kyra for help with killing the devil, it puts her in an impossible position.  She can't refuse to help without drawing suspicion, but the goal of their mission goes against everything she wants.Lucifer is in Carthage to raise Death, and he's surprised the Winchesters have brought the fight to him.  But with Kyra solidly on their side, the archangel has to rethink his strategy.  He has to complete the ritual to raise Death, but the very idea of hurting the nephilim is repulsive.Those feelings should've been their first clue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one takes place during the events of “Abandon All Hope,” and from here, the series deviates (mostly) from canon. It’s also going to be a longer story than the last two, and possibly the longest story thus far. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam calls Kyra for help with killing Lucifer, and Gabriel is NOT happy about it.

     It was just after daybreak when Kyra’s phone rang.  The shrill ringing startled her out of her trance; she had been reliving her latest tryst with Lucifer in her mind, but the call back to reality jarred her from that pleasant memory.  A glance at the caller ID told her it was Sam calling.

     She answered the phone.  “Hey, Sam.”

     “Hey Kyra, how’ve you been?”

     “Bored out of my skull.”  Gabriel stuck his head through the open doorway, an eyebrow arched questioningly.  “Gabe won’t let me hunt—says it’s too dangerous with all the angels looking for me.”

     “That’s cuz it is, kiddo,” he quipped, making her roll her eyes at the archangel.

     “Anyway, what’s up?  Pretty sure this isn’t a social call,” she asked Sam, ignoring the faces her forefather was making at her.

     “We think we might have a shot at killing the devil.  Can you meet us at Bobby’s?  We’re about an hour out; we’ll fill you in when we get there.”

     The words sent an unexpected jolt of anxiety through her, but she forced herself to stay tightly in control.  “Sure thing, Sam.  See ya then.”

     She hung up the phone and looked at Gabriel.  “I’m going to Uncle Bobby’s.”

     “For?”

     “Sam thinks they’ve got a shot at killing Lucifer.”

     “Kyra,  _no_.”  All the playfulness fell away from Gabriel at her words, replaced by deadly earnest.  “He’ll kill you with a smile on his face if you go anywhere near him.”

     His words made her blood boil as she shot to her feet.  “Better than sitting around hiding and doing nothing!” she spat out, her anger making the lights flicker.  “I’m a  _hunter_ , Gabriel—I’m sick of sitting on the sidelines!”

     “It’s suicide!” he yelled.

 _ **“I don’t care!”**_  she roared back, getting right in his face as the light bulbs in the room shattered, the only light in the room now coming from the curtained window.  Her voice dropped to a low hiss as she said, “I learned a long time ago that family don’t end with blood.  Now, you may be my blood, Gabriel, but they’re my  _family_ , and they  _need_  me.  So you can either come with me, or get out of the fucking way.  Your choice.”

     The room was so stifling from unrestrained Grace, any human would’ve instantly succumbed to heat stroke.  Gabriel should’ve known that keeping her so isolated was bound to backfire.  Kyra was a hunter, and in the interest of keeping her safe from Heaven’s forces, he’d kept her near him, moving frequently and not letting her hunt, no matter how simple the case.  It hurt that it had come to this, but she wasn’t like him.   She had that  _need_  to help those she cared about, regardless of the personal danger.  She wasn’t made to sit back and watch events take place, not when she  _knew_  she could help.

     And…ironically, this was probably the  _only_  case she could take where she wouldn’t have to watch her back for the Host.  If they were going after Lucifer, then the Host wouldn’t be anywhere in the vicinity.  The fallen archangel had been thrown in the Cage long before the decree about nephilim had been passed down, so there was a chance that he wouldn’t kill her on sight for what she was.  Still, if she was part of a team that was trying to kill him, he wasn’t going to take that lying down.  Sam and Dean were safe from his wrath as the vessels, but Kyra?  It would be a bloodbath.

     Something stopped him, though.  He  _knew_  Kyra.  If he tried to stop her, she would just find a way to leave anyway.  Christ, this was  _ **hard**_ —she was his greatest descendant, the  _only_  one worthy of the gift he had given her.  How was he supposed to let her march off to her death?

     Would it really be her death, though?  She had beaten the odds before when she was human, wading through armies of demons and facing the worst monsters, always finding a way to survive.  Maybe—just  _maybe_ —she would find a way to walk away from this as well.  It didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

     “Fine,” Gabriel finally relented.  “Go.”

      Kyra was still too angry to act surprised, but she gave him a look that made him uncomfortable.  “You’re not coming?”

     “Kyra, I can’t kill my brother,” he said quietly, giving her a knowing look.  “If the roles were reversed, do you really think Will could’ve killed you?”

     Her jaw clenched at the comparison, but the look in her eyes told him that she understood.  “I’ll keep you posted, Gabe,” she said, her tone still a little harsh from her temper.  She gave him a small smirk as she snapped up a bag of supplies.  “See you on the other side.”

     Before he could respond, she flew off, leaving him alone in the room.  A snap of his fingers repaired the damage to the room, but his concerns ran far deeper than a few shattered light bulbs.  Kyra was his  _family_ , the closest to him since before the Fall.  Even if they somehow succeeded, she would still be in danger from the Host because of what she was.

     A part of him hated himself for awakening her Grace; he knew his brothers would never stop hunting her for being what she was.  Still, he’d seen himself how close she was to changing completely.  She was already on the verge of her Grace spontaneously bursting into life when he gave her the choice.  If he hadn’t acted when he did, he wouldn’t have been able to shield her from the Host.

     Now, she was determined to hunt Lucifer with the Winchesters.  A shudder ran through him at the thought.  Given the chance, his brother would kill her without a second thought…but he knew Kyra.  She wouldn’t make it easy for him.  She was stronger and smarter than her friends knew.  If  _anyone_  could pull off the insane task of killing Lucifer, it was her and the Winchesters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyra meets up with the rest of Team Free Will to discuss strategy, but between her anxiety at the upcoming mission’s goal and Dean’s attitude, it doesn’t go well.

     Kyra clenched her jaw as she looked around Uncle Bobby’s kitchen.  Apparently, she wasn’t the only call the boys made, since Ellen and Jo were present as well.  Uncle Bobby was leaning against the kitchen counter, the wheelchair shoved into a closet after she healed the nerve damage that had paralyzed him.  Castiel was standing near Dean, which wasn’t a surprise.  Sam was on Dean’s other side, watching his brother as he explained the plan.

     She was barely listening, though.  Her mind was drifting into the memories she had of the fallen archangel.  She wasn’t blind to his reputation—she wasn’t nearly stupid enough to think he wasn’t capable of all the things everyone expected of him—but every time they were together, it was like he was someone else entirely.  It reminded her of Gabriel’s earlier memories of Lucifer, before humanity was created, before he Fell.

     While Dean was explaining the plan—really, it was barely an idea, par for the course with him—her relationship with Lucifer came to the forefront of her mind.  The sex, of course, was un- _fucking_ -believable, but…damn it.  She  _cared_  about him, even if he didn’t feel the same way.  Sure, he was different around her, but that didn’t mean he liked her beyond their sexual encounters.  But…she had the feeling that, given time, maybe he  _could_.  Maybe the way to end the Apocalypse wasn’t to kill him, but to convince him that there was a better option.  All she needed was more time.

     The problem was, she was in no position to play devil’s advocate.  That line of conversation would only be more trouble than it was worth.  At best, they would think Lucifer had brainwashed her.  More likely, they’d see her as a traitor, even though she hadn’t given him any information on them…but they wouldn’t believe that.

     “Kyra.”  Uncle Bobby’s voice made her start guiltily, and she looked at him to see the stern expression on his face.  “Something you wanna share?”

     No, he couldn’t know what was going on inside her head.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing instead on the glaring hole in Dean’s plan.  “I just…we don’t know if the Colt will work.”

     “Kyra, it’s the  _Colt_ ,” Dean argued in that tone that irritated her so much.  “Kills anything, remember?”

     “Really?” Kyra drawled, her tone dripping aggravation as she glared at the older Winchester.  “Think it could kill God?”

     The question had the intended effect on the room; everyone froze, looking uncertainly at Dean, who for once, didn’t have an instant comeback.

     “…”

     “That’s my point, Dean.  We’re not just talking about a monster, or some demon.  Lucifer is an  _archangel_ , in spite of being cast out, and in case you forgot, that ranks him just beneath God in terms of the celestial hierarchy.  Now, I’m fairly certain that the Colt won’t kill God, so the question is:  is it powerful enough to kill an archangel?”

     “So you’re saying it’s pointless?”  There was an edge to Ellen’s voice that Kyra recognized.  She knew the nephilim had a valid point, but she wasn’t so easily swayed.

     Kyra threw her hands up in frustration.  “Look, all I’m saying is that it’s a gamble.  Assuming we can get close enough, even  _if_  we’re able to take the shot and make it count…we have to be prepared for the possibility that it won’t work.”

     “She’s right,” Castiel spoke up, making her shoot him a grateful look.  “There are no guarantees with this plan.  We’d be taking a great risk with only the smallest possibility of success.”

     “We’ve done more with less,” Sam said quietly, his face determined.  “Kyra’s right.  We  _don’t_  know if the Colt will work, but it  _might_.  We have to try.”

     “Can’t we ask Gabriel?” Jo spoke up; everyone turned to her.  “Wouldn’t he know if the Colt works on archangels?”

     “I doubt he’d listen right now,” Kyra replied, frowning.  “He already thinks I signed up for a suicide mission, going after Lucifer.  We kind of got into it when I was leaving.  He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with this.”

     “Well, that’s just great,” Dean said, his tone all too familiar.  “You just  _had_  to piss him off, didn’t you?”

     “I’m sorry,” she snapped, her tone not sorry at all as she glared daggers at Dean.  “I thought you wanted my help.  He got mad because he  _wanted_  me to stay out of it, but I told him you  _needed_  me, that you guys were my  _family_ , and I wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines while you marched off to your deaths.  But go ahead, be all pissed off at  _me_  for not doing what he wanted me to do.”

     At her words, Dean’s jaw clenched, his expression closed off.  Before he could say anything, Bobby stepped between them.  “That’s enough, you two.”

     Disgusted, Kyra turned to the door, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing her arm roughly.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

     Her eyes drifted from the calloused hand on her arm to Dean’s face.  Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she hissed, “You didn’t hear yourself?   _God_ has spoken—I’m unworthy to be in His presence.”

     Ignoring the others, she stormed outside and into the solitude of the scrap yard, letting the quiet of the night soothe her nerves.  Fuck Dean and his bullshit…there had been a time that she would’ve done anything for him, sacrificed everything for his sake, but that time had passed.  She knew all too well what kind of man he was, and he was an ungrateful, hypocritical asshole with a truckload of daddy issues and enough self-esteem drama to fill a psychologist’s career.

     Without the others around, she was right back where she started.  All she could think about was Lucifer, and how  _ **wrong**_  this plan was.  Maybe he was only in it for the sex—really, it had started that way for her, too—but she honestly  _liked_  him, and it terrified her.

     One of the side effects of being part angel was that she was acutely aware of time passing, even though it was no longer relevant to her.  Twenty-six minutes after she had left the house, she was sitting on the ground leaning against a scrapped car when her ears detected a faint rustle of wings.

     “That was extremely blasphemous, Kyra,” a familiar gravelly voice spoke to her left, approaching with quiet footsteps.  “Even for you.”

     “I was making a point, Cass,” Kyra replied quietly, not bothering to look at him as she patted the ground beside her, inviting him to join her.  “Dean has a tendency to act like he can do everything better than me, whether it’s killing monsters, or just getting his way.  When he gets like that, it takes a harsh reminder to make him see he’s not as good as he thinks he is.”

     “If it’s any consolation, I share your doubts about the efficacy of the Colt against Lucifer,” Castiel informed her, sitting in the dirt beside her.  “Naturally, the humans still wish to follow through with the plan.”

     She snorted.  “It’s barely an idea.  It’s pretty damn far from a plan.”

     “I agree.”  A moment of silence followed.  “I spoke with Gabriel.”

     The words made her tense.  “And?”

     “He refused to listen once I told him I was part of the mission.  He ended the conversation before I could ask whether the Colt would kill Lucifer.”

     She exhaled sharply.  “Can’t say I’m surprised.  I think I might’ve hurt his feelings when I told him I was going.”

     “He’s concerned for your safety, Kyra,” the angel told her, “as am I.”

     She finally looked at him; he was looking up at the stars.  “You’re a good friend, Cass.”

     “As are you,” he said quietly, then turned his piercing gaze to her.  “What’s _really_ troubling you, Kyra?”

     She bit her lip, looking down at her hands.  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell him about her strange relationship with Lucifer without looking like a traitor to her friends.  Instead, she chose a partial truth.

     “Maybe I’m crazy, but…I feel like we’re looking at this all wrong,” she whispered, her eyes still on her hands.  “Maybe there’s a way to stop the Apocalypse without killing Lucifer.”

     She felt Castiel’s piercing gaze on her again.  “What do you mean?”

     Closing her eyes, Kyra took a deep breath and let it out slowly, choosing her words carefully.  “Maybe the way to stop him is to appeal to his rebellious nature.  If he’s as angry at God and Heaven as everyone thinks, he’d probably love the idea of walking off the chessboard and screwing up God’s plans.”

     Silence fell for a moment as the angel considered her words.  “And if that plan did succeed…then what?  What would humanity’s fate be?”

     “I don’t know, Cass,” she admitted, resting her head against the rusty car at her back.  “And I can’t explain why I feel so strongly about it.  I just…do.”

     To her slight surprise, a warm hand found hers and squeezed it in a comforting gesture.  “I know how difficult it’s been for you, Kyra.  Adjusting from human emotions to those of an angel’s is…trying.  You seem to be handling the transition exceptionally well, but I’m sure that it’s been more difficult than you would admit.”

     There was a pause as she squeezed her eyes shut, her heart aching at the situation she’d found herself in.  “More than you know, Cass,” she said quietly, her voice rough with emotions.  “More than you know.”

     Silence fell between the rogue angel and the nephilim.  After a few moments, he let go of her hand in favor of putting an arm around her shoulder, his Grace giving her the silent, accepting support that she so desperately needed.  Relaxing into the platonic embrace, she rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes still closed.

     No, Castiel didn’t know why she was really upset…but he was there, supporting her anyway.  Kyra’s heart was still twisted with dread for the mission to come, but for the moment, she allowed her friend to comfort her.  Something told her she was going to need all the comfort she could get.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will arrives in Carthage, and everything quickly goes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another long one, and things are not looking happy in the immediate future. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Kyra was familiar with this nightmare.  It had been a prominent feature in her dreams ever since she had become a hunter.  She would always look in her children’s bedroom, horrified to find the werewolf that used to be her husband already devouring their hearts, then run back down the hallway to the kitchen.  Grabbing Dean’s gun from the table, she always took aim and emptied the clip of silver bullets into the monster’s chest while Dean distracted it.  Once it hit the floor dead, it always turned back into her husband’s corpse after a few moments.

     She had relived that night more times than she would ever want to count, and the nightmare always,  _ **always**_  followed the same pattern; the events of that night were as steady as the Earth’s rotation.

     What she wasn’t prepared for, however, was how the dream changed.

     The instant she pulled the trigger, the dream shifted.  They weren’t in the apartment in Tulsa anymore, but the background was hazy, unimportant.  The gun in her hand wasn’t Dean’s pistol; it was the Colt.  Suddenly, it wasn’t her husband standing in front of her, but Lucifer.  She barely had time to process the changes before the bullet slammed home, striking him in the chest and piercing his heart.

     Before she could react, the blinding flash and piercing scream of his Grace being destroyed filled her senses, and Nick’s corpse dropped to the ground, dead, the scorched imprints of Lucifer’s wings stretched out on either side of his body.

     Kyra jerked awake, horror racing through her—to find Jo watching her from the passenger seat with a concerned look.  Ellen was more subtle, looking at her in the rearview mirror, but she could feel the concern radiating from her friends.

     “You okay, honey?” Ellen asked, turning her eyes back to the road.

     The nephilim took a deep breath and let it out shakily.  The image of Lucifer dead at her feet—dead by  _her_  hands, just like her husband—seemed burned into her retinas, haunting her.  “Not really.”

     Jo gave her a knowing look, her eyes soft.  “Tulsa?”

     The word made Kyra shudder.  She had hunted with Jo before, so the blonde was familiar with her nightmares.

     “Yeah,” she replied quietly, looking out the window at the passing scenery, trying to banish the images from her mind.  “Tulsa.”

     There was quiet for a moment, the only sounds coming from the car’s engine and the tires against the road.  In that moment, Kyra was grateful for their company.  Ellen had been a maternal figure to her ever since she first discovered the Roadhouse all those years ago, and Jo was like the little sister she never had.  They knew her history, so they didn’t ask questions.

     Belatedly, she was also thankful that Castiel was riding in the Impala with the boys.  He’d seen her dreams before by simply being in the same room while she slept.  If he’d seen  _that_  dream, if he had felt her horror at the ending…well, there was no way that would end well.

     “We’re about twenty minutes out, so you girls get your heads in the game,” Ellen announced, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

     The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence.  Kyra tried to focus on the mission at hand, but it only filled her with a sense of dread.  It was too late to turn back now.  For better or worse, she had to see it through to the end.

     The first thing the group noticed as they rolled into Carthage was how  _ominous_  the place felt.  Kyra could see Dean holding his cell phone outside the Impala’s window as they crawled down the main street, obviously searching for a signal in vain.  There were no signs of life besides their group to be seen, not even a stray dog or cat.  It was…unsettling.

     When they finally parked and stepped out onto the sidewalk, Kyra’s grip on her shotgun tightened nervously as she looked around.

     “Cass, are you seeing this?” Kyra asked, hoping she was wrong.

     “I see them,” he said simply.

     “What?  What is it?” Dean asked.

     “Reapers,” the angel responded.

     “Reapers?  As in more than one?” Ellen asked, surprised.

     Kyra looked around, her nerves winding tighter the more her eyes took in.  “More like dozens.”

     The information made the humans in the group tense uneasily.  Castiel surveyed the reapers with a grim expression.

     “Reapers only gather in numbers this size in times of great catastrophe,” he said.

     “Looks like we’re in the right place, then,” Sam said.

     “It would seem so,” Castiel said, still looking at the reapers.  “I should find out why they’re here.”

     Kyra nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll stay with them.”  Once Castiel had walked away, she looked at the humans with a small smile.  “Well, silver lining—none of them are paying attention to us.”

     “What  _are_  they looking at?” Jo asked, making Kyra shrug.

     “They’re all facing that way,” she said, pointing.  “I don’t see anything, but the way they’re all standing and staring…it’s like they’re waiting for something.”

     “That sounds ominous,” Dean said, his relaxed tone not matching his grip on his shotgun.

     “So if they’re all facing one direction, that’s probably where we need to go,” Ellen said, the grip on her own gun tightening.

     Kyra took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her angel blade slipping into her hand—a gift from Gabriel when he awakened her Grace.  “Let’s go, then.”

     Twenty minutes and several streets later, everything went to hell, literally.  Meg popped up with three hellhounds, and they were forced to make a run for the hardware store.  Kyra was too slow, though.  While she was trying to keep the hellhounds distracted, one slipped past her and attacked Jo.  The gunshots weren’t enough to drown out her screams as the dog tore into her.

     Kyra kept going, dodging and slashing, until she heard the chains wrap around the doors of the hardware store.  With that, she abandoned the fight and appeared inside the store, her heart sinking at the sight.

     The boys had just finished the salt lines, but the trail of blood leading to Jo sitting on the floor, leaning against the front counter, her face already white from blood loss, made Kyra’s heart twist with guilt.  Immediately, she ran over and dropped to her knees beside her, sharing a look with Ellen.  Tears fell freely from the older woman’s eyes, but she was trying to hold herself together for her daughter’s sake.

     “Let me see,” Kyra ordered Jo, gently pulling her hand away from her side.  The nephilim’s jaw clenched at the damage she found, the blood that gushed from the wound; she swallowed hard as she used her hands to put pressure on the wound, the hot blood instantly covering her hands.

     “C-can you heal it?” Jo stammered, her eyes full of pain and fear.  The sight put a lump in Kyra’s throat.

     “This was from a hellhound…I don’t know if my healing abilities will work on this type of injury, but I’ll try,” Kyra said quietly, then closed her eyes in concentration.  It took a few moments for the nephilim to steady herself—she wasn’t nearly as practiced at this as Castiel or Gabriel—before she began closing the wound, the tissues regenerating beneath her fingertips.  Her eyes stayed closed as she worked, her hands glowing faintly with Grace.  Finally, the skin healed over without a scar, and she replaced the blood the young woman had lost, then pulled her hands back.

     As soon as she opened her eyes, Ellen grabbed her and pulled her into a fierce hug; if she was still human, she would’ve been choking.  “Thank you!” she sobbed into Kyra’s shoulder, finally breaking down.  “Thank you!”

     Jo jumped forward and hugged both of them as well, her head on her mom’s shoulder.  “It’s okay, Mom,” she assured her, “I’m okay now…it’s gonna be okay.”

     After a moment, Ellen had pulled herself together again, and the women stood up.  Kyra took a deep breath and looked over at Sam and Dean, who wore matching expressions of relief that Jo was healed.  Sam asked, “So what’s the plan now?”

     “We’re not going anywhere until we can get rid of those hellhounds,” Dean answered, his expression turning grim again.  “They’ve got all our scents—doesn’t matter where we go, they’ll come after us.”

     “How are we supposed to fight something we can’t even see?” Jo asked.

     “You don’t,” Kyra said quietly, her jaw clenching as she picked up her angel sword.  “I can see them, so I can kill them.”

     “You can’t do it alone, Kyra,” Ellen insisted, her expression concerned.

     Kyra smirked at the older woman’s words.  “I’m the only one that can.”  Sam started to speak, but she cut him off.  “You haven’t seen everything I can do.  I’m stronger now, faster—and I have a few new tricks up my sleeve that I didn’t have before.  I’m  _telling_  you, I can do this.”

     Silence fell between them as her eyes met Dean’s.  She could see the conflict in his eyes; he knew she was right, but he doubted she could pull it off.  He  _always_  doubted her—but she was their only shot at getting out of that hardware store alive.

     “Sam, give her the knife.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has Castiel temporarily out of action, but his thoughts are far from relaxed with Kyra in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, this one came out long! 2.4k words! But, it’s worth it, cuz we finally get to see Lucifer! And I also have to give a huge thanks to @messengerofdark (over on Tumblr) for her help with Castiel and Lucifer’s conversation. You rock, honey! As always, enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Lucifer studied Castiel, slowly pacing outside the circle of holy fire his little brother was trapped in.  The younger angel was cut off from Heaven just as he was, but he considered it his mission to stop the Apocalypse.  Didn’t he know how useless it was to fight what Father had ordained so long ago?  Still, he was different from their other brothers.  He was brave enough to stand up to their family, to stand up for what he truly believed, and Lucifer respected that.  Also, his demons had told him that Kyra had killed an angel to save Castiel.  He wanted to know more about  _that_  relationship.

     “I am told that you arrived in town in an automobile,” the archangel drawled, noting the slightly embarrassed posture of his brother.  “What was that like?”

     “It was…slow,” Castiel admitted, keeping his eyes on Lucifer as though he expected him to jump inside the flames and stab him.  “Confining.”

     Lucifer pressed a finger to his bottom lip, idly rubbing it.  “I’m also told that you arrived in town in the company of a nephilim.”

     Castiel froze at those words; if Lucifer had to use a human euphemism, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.  “No.”

     The hesitation and unsteady tone was just as much of a giveaway as his expression.  Lucifer smiled.  “Lying…such a sin, isn’t it, Castiel?”

     The expression on his face darkened.  “I am nothing like you, Lucifer.”

     “Of course not.  After all, you didn’t rebel.”  He paused dramatically and smirked.  “Oh wait, that’s right…you  _did_.  But stop changing the subject and answer the question, brother.”

     “Stay away from her.”  Castiel seemed to accept that he knew the truth, but the sudden surge of anger, the threatening tone he used was a surprise.

     Lucifer raised an eyebrow.  “Or what?”

     The younger angel glared at him with deadly intentions.  “I’ll kill you myself.”  It took everything Lucifer had not to chuckle.  Boy, if he only knew…  “Stay.   _Away._   From.  Kyra.”

     Ah, he slipped up and said her name.  Good.  Now he wouldn’t have to worry about using it himself.  “Such a brave little soldier.”

     “I mean it, Lucifer.”  Oh, he could tell.  There was a lethal seriousness in his tone and expression that hadn’t been present before.

     “What is this about?  Are you…in love with her?”  Castiel looked stunned at the question.  “Not that I blame you.  From what my demons tell me, Kyra is an  _incredibly_  attractive woman.”

     “I have no romantic interest in her,” Castiel said bluntly.  His surprise at the accusation wore off, and his jaw tightened.  “She’s a brave warrior, a  _ **good**_  person—something you know nothing about.”

     “Is that supposed to be an insult?” Lucifer asked mildly, a small smile tugging at his lips.  “You need to work on that.”

     Castiel’s eyes narrowed.  “Why are  _you_  so interested in her?”

     “Interested?”  Lucifer chuckled.  “No, Castiel.  I simply hold a certain curiosity about Heaven’s second most wanted.”

     “How do you know about that?” the younger angel demanded, his fists clenching.

     A small smirk crossed Lucifer’s face.  He would’ve loved to see the expression on his little brother’s face when he found out about him and Kyra…but he had sworn to keep their nights together a secret.  “She’s a nephilim.  Of course Heaven is after her.  I have my sources too, you know.”

     Castiel straightened to his full height, his jaw clenched.  “She’s not like her predecessors.  She doesn’t deserve to be hunted.”  His eyes narrowed at the fallen archangel.  “And she doesn’t need _you_ to add to her troubles.”

     This made him chuckle.  “Ah, Castiel…who are you to determine whether she is like her predecessors?  After all, I was once the most beautiful angel in existence, the most loved by our Father…and look at what I’ve become.”  He smiled at the tension in the younger angel.  “I can’t help it.  I  _am_  trouble.”

     The younger angel’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.  “I can determine that because I  _ **know**_  her.  She’s better than we could ever hope to be.”  His eyes seemed to bore into the archangel’s.  “So stay away from her.”

     Okay, this was starting to get boring; Lucifer let out a sigh.  “Little brother, you just don’t give up, do you?  What can you do to stop me?”

     “Whatever I have to,” was the grave response, making Lucifer shake his head.

     “I didn’t say ‘what would you do’…I said, ‘what  _can_  you do?’  You’re outclassed and outgunned, little brother.  You can’t kill me, and you can’t stop me, no matter how much you want to.”

     Castiel had a strangely confident look in his eyes as a faint smile pulled at his lips.  “I may not have to do anything.  It’s highly likely she would strike against you before I had the opportunity.”

     So  _that’s_  why he was smiling.  He knew that Lucifer knew how powerful nephilim were; if she chose, she could stand toe to toe with him, and the outcome of that battle wouldn’t be clear.  In any other situation, it would’ve been a valid threat…but Castiel didn’t know about their nights off together, or at least he wasn’t letting on that he did.

     “You’re promising me a good time now, Castiel,” he said with a faint smile.

     This made the younger angel tilt his head in confusion.  “I fail to understand how you consider your death to be a pleasurable event.”

     All Lucifer could do was shake his head.  How could he be so focused on his mission that he completely missed the innuendo?  “Poor Castiel…Kyra can try, but she won’t succeed.  I won’t be the one dying today.”

     A look of pure rage crossed the young angel’s face.  “You’re not gonna touch her!” he snarled, advancing on the archangel threateningly—until he got too close to the holy fire.  The heat from the flames seemed to sober him, bringing him back to the reality of his situation as he looked at the flames with a pained expression.

     Lucifer glanced at the holy fire, then back up to Castiel’s face.  “We will see, won’t we?”

     Even though he was still trapped, Castiel’s expression was downright murderous.  “I suppose we will.”

     Lucifer clapped his hands together.  “Well, I have a ritual to prepare for, so if you’ll excuse me…”  He smirked at his little brother.  “Don’t go anywhere.”

     With that, Lucifer walked away, feeling Castiel’s gaze on his back until he was out of sight of the holy fire.  The archangel’s mind was racing, but his thoughts were spinning around Kyra and what the seraph had said rather than the ritual he needed to complete.  He didn’t want to believe that Kyra would try to kill him, or that she would even  _want_  to…but he’d been wrong before.

     He couldn’t help but think about the time he’d spent with Kyra.  Every conversation, every touch, every kiss, the mind-blowing sex—she had tricked him on their first evening together, allowing him to think that he’d successfully manipulated her, but it was one thing to deceive him in that manner.  It was something else entirely if she truly wanted to kill him, if their evenings together meant nothing to her.

     How could he possibly know which was the truth?  Every interaction with Kyra had only made him more enamored with her.  In all of his existence, she was the  _ **only**_  being that had ever treated him as normal.  She didn’t regard him as a monster like humans or the angels; she also didn’t idolize him like his demon followers.  It was that lack of judgment, that willingness to disregard what she’d heard about him—that  _acceptance_  of his company on the most basic level—that resonated so strongly with him.  He hadn’t realized how badly he needed that simple connection with another living being until she gave it to him, and he didn’t want to give that up.

     Damn it, he knew this would be a problem sooner or later.  They both knew from the start that they were on opposite sides of the Apocalypse.  Her words from their first night together—her assumption that he would kill her in a heartbeat if she stood in his way—echoed through his mind, but now they caused him pain.  Did she still believe that?  Was she simply operating on the assumption that he felt nothing for her?

     Maybe that was the case…but if it was, it was a depressing thought.  He may not have said how he felt with words, but surely she felt it when he kissed her.  Didn’t she?

     He could’ve sworn that she felt the same way, that she cared about him beyond the sexual gratification, but what did he know?  The thought that she felt nothing for him was just as painful as the idea of her believing the same of him.

     At that point, he only knew one thing.  He  _had_  to see her.  The problem was, she wasn’t alone, so he couldn’t talk to her.  As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to observe from a distance.

     With that in mind, he took off, landing on a rooftop down the street from the hardware store, hiding himself from sight.  A shiver ran through his Grace as he took in the scene; eight hellhounds had the store surrounded, ready to tear apart anyone who tried to leave.  He could feel Kyra’s Grace inside the building along with four humans, and he would’ve bet his wings that Sam and Dean were with her, even if he had no idea who the other two humans could be.

     There was a tension in the air that had Lucifer’s Grace on edge.  It had been quiet for too long; something had to change, soon.

     Suddenly, the stalemate was shattered as Kyra appeared in the street, closer to him than the store, slashing and stabbing the hellhound furthest in the rear with two different blades.  In her right hand was an angel blade, but in her left…what was that?  He hadn’t seen a knife like that before, but it was apparently effective against the beast.  Its pained howls died as quickly as it did, but it had alerted the others to her presence.

     As one, the pack turned to the new threat, snarling and barking. Lucifer moved to the roof of the hardware store so he could see Kyra more clearly.  Immediately, he was struck by how  _different_  she looked.  The gentle smile and soft eyes were nowhere to be found—the woman standing below him now was glaring at the pack with death in her eyes, her hands covered with human blood and splatters of hellhound gore on her clothes and face.  This wasn’t Kyra on her night off—this was Kyra the hunter.

     He had no time to marvel at the difference; the pack lunged at her, and she was in motion, dodging teeth and slashing where she could do the most damage.  With his enhanced sight, he was able to follow her every movement—there was no wasted energy, no mistakes.  She was grace and death and precision, a bloodstained hurricane that was slowly but surely decimating the pack.

     As the fight wore on, he could feel the emotions starting to roll off her Grace even from a distance.  Hatred, bitterness, frustration, a whirlwind of confusion and doubt…he had no idea what was going through her mind to make her feel such things, but it was enough to make his own Grace throb in sympathy.  He was all too familiar with those emotions.

     Finally, only one hellhound was left standing, the corpses of its pack scattered in the street.  Her emotions seemed to have reached a boiling point, and she threw her weapons down, her eyes flashing gold with Grace.  The beast lunged at her, but for the first time, she used her angelic powers to throw it to the ground—before it could recover, her palm slammed onto its head.  A blinding flash of Grace lit the street as she smote the final hellhound, burning it from existence.

     Slowly, she stood to her full height.  The expression on the nephilim’s face was grim, out of place with her success.  There was a torment in her eyes that made Lucifer’s heart ache.  Swallowing hard, he returned to his temporary headquarters, leaving her and the Winchesters behind.

     His mind was spinning at what he’d just witnessed.  Even though he knew Kyra was a hunter, for some reason, he was never able to picture her in a fight; she was always so  _kind_  to him that the image just never took shape.

     Now, however, he had witnessed firsthand how deadly she could be.  The sight of her in action probably should’ve worried him, but instead, it only served to arouse him.  The contrast between the two aspects of her personality was intoxicating—to think that such a deadly creature had willingly given herself to him, had been so open and _intimate_ with him, was staggering.

     Still, he’d felt the emotions radiating from her.  He knew the only reason Kyra and her friends were here was to stop him—but the torment in her eyes, the emotions raging through her Grace, told him that she would rather be anywhere than here.  If he had to guess, she’d been placed in a predicament where she couldn’t refuse to help the Winchesters without raising suspicion.

     The thought made him feel better, but he couldn’t help but worry.  What were they planning to do that would cause her such anxiety?  Were they expecting her to fight him?

     That was a distinct possibility, especially when he considered what Castiel had said.  It was obvious now that the others didn’t know about the nights he and Kyra had shared, but the idea of being forced to fight her pained him.  He’d stopped caring about others when Michael had cast him out, when Father turned His back on him—but for some inexplicable reason, he  _cared_  about her.

     He closed his eyes, feeling just as confused as Kyra had in that street.  Killing her wasn’t an option, and the idea of hurting her was just as abhorrent to him, but he couldn’t let her stop his plans.  He needed another option.

     Clenching his jaw, he opened his eyes again, the solution coming to him almost instantly.  His resolve solidified once more…this  _would_  work.

     He had a job to do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the hellhounds are dead, Team Free Will confers with Bobby to figure out their next move to stop Lucifer.

     Kyra was dragging her feet as she walked back to the hardware store.  She had a few minor scrapes and bruises, but the thought of the mission to come made her want to collapse.  Sure, killing the hellhounds had been fun, but it only brought them a step closer to why they were here in the first place…and she  _really_  didn’t want to think about that.

     The doors were opened for her when she reached them, and she walked back inside, not looking at the others.  Jo’s blood from her earlier injury still coated her hands, and the streaks of hellhound gore still covered her.  She could’ve easily used her Grace to clean herself up, but honestly, she was too depressed to bother.

     No one spoke as she walked back to the counter, sat down on the floor and rested her head on her knees.  She heard someone—probably Sam or Jo—replace the salt line at the door.  It was tense until someone walked over and sat beside her.

     “You did good, Kyra,” Ellen told her, putting an arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

     “Yeah,” Kyra muttered, not bothering to look up.

     “You okay?” Sam asked.  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

     “Give me a minute…that really took a lot out of me.”  The lie came naturally, and they seemed to believe it; Ellen got up and walked back to the front of the store with the others, leaving her alone for a moment.

     Fuck…she was starting to wish she had never answered the phone when Sam called.  Granted, saving Jo was a good thing—and so was killing the hellhounds—but it felt like the universe was against her, pushing her forward to do something that every fiber of her existence screamed in protest of.  Despite what the others thought, killing Lucifer wasn’t the solution…but if it was going to be done, it  _had_  to be now.

     Gritting her teeth, she got up and joined the others.  Dean was already talking, but she was only now paying attention.  “…find out where he is.”

     “We need to get in touch with Uncle Bobby,” Kyra said quietly, making them look at her.  “He’s been trying to figure out what Lucifer’s doing here.  Maybe he’s found something.”

     “The question is how,” Jo said.  “Demons cut off all outside contact.”

     Kyra smirked.  “That’s what you got me for.”  She dug around in her bag and pulled out a pair of walkie-talkies.  Her hands tightened around them for a moment; they glowed faintly before resuming their normal appearance.

     Sam gave her a curious look.  “What was that?”

     “I just gave them a dose of my Grace,” she said, making sure they were both turned on.  “Distance and demonic interference won’t matter…they’ll work.”

     “That’s great, but they’re both here,” Dean remarked.  Kyra rolled her eyes and handed one to him, then set the other down on a nearby shelf.  With a snap of her fingers, the handset on the shelf vanished.

     “Now it’s sitting on Uncle Bobby’s desk.”  Kyra raised an eyebrow at Dean, daring him to say anything else.

     The older brother gave her a dubious look, but he still pressed the talk button.  “Bobby?  Bobby, this is Dean.  Are you there?”

     It took five seconds to get a response.  “Dean, this is Bobby.  What’s your status, son?”

     A quiet wave of relief ran through the group.  “We’re in Carthage in the hardware store.  Cass is MIA, and the town’s crawling with reapers.”

     There was a brief pause.  “How many reapers are we talking about?”

     “I don’t know.  Does it really matter?” Dean asked.

     “Devil’s in the details, Dean,” was the response.  Kyra and Dean shared a look, and he passed the handset to her.

     “Uncle Bobby, it’s Kyra.  I could see the reapers, too.  They were ignoring us, but there were dozens of them.  I mean, you can’t even spit in this town without hitting one.  And the way they’re just standing around—it’s like they’re waiting for something.”

     They heard Bobby sigh heavily over the radio.  “I do not like the sound of that.”

     Ellen snatched the handset from Kyra.  “Nobody likes the sound of that, Bobby, but what  _does_  it sound like?”

     “It sounds like Death.  I think Satan’s in town to work a ritual.  I think he’s planning to unleash Death.”

     Bobby’s words made the hunters tense.  They had expected any number of things, but this?  It was a whole new level of nightmarish situations.

     Dean took the handset.  “You mean, like, as in this dude and taxes are the only sure thing?”

     “As in Death—the horseman, the pale rider in the flesh.”

     “Unleash?  I mean, hasn’t Death been tromping all over the place?  I mean, hell,  _I_  died several times myself.”

     “Not this guy.  This is—this is the  _angel_  of death.  Big daddy reaper.  They keep this guy chained in a box 600 feet under.  Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat.”

     The gravity of Bobby’s statement made them look at each other uneasily.  The older hunter finished his train of thought.  “That’s why the place is crawling with reapers.  They’re waiting on the big boss to show.”

     Dean closed his eyes for a second, obviously trying to process that happy thought.  “You have any other good news?”

     “Well, in a manner of speaking.  I’ve been researching Carthage since you’ve been gone, trying to suss out what the devil might want there.  What you just said drops the last piece of the puzzle in place.  ‘The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage.’  Now, back during the Civil War, there was a battle in Carthage—a battle so intense, the soldiers called it ‘the Battle of Hellhole.’”

     Kyra’s jaw clenched; it was already dark, only a few hours left.  Dean asked, “Where’d the massacre go down?”

     “On the land of William Jasper’s farm.”

     There was silence for a beat before Dean spoke.  “Thanks, Bobby.  Wish us luck.”

     “Goes without saying,” he answered gruffly.  “Don’t miss.”

     With those parting words, Kyra shoved the walkie-talkie back into her bag.  The atmosphere in the group shifted once more; they had a location and a deadline now.

     “If anyone has any bright ideas for how we’re gonna do this, let’s hear it,” Jo said.

     Sam clenched his jaw.  “We all know I’m the best distraction we have.  I’ll keep his attention while one of you gets the drop on him with the Colt.”

     “That’s my job,” Dean answered automatically.

     “Like hell it is,” Kyra shot back.

     “What’s your plan?” Ellen asked her.

     “ _I’ll_  use the Colt.”

     “You don’t even think the Colt’s gonna work.  Why the hell would you do it?” Dean demanded.

 _Because if it works and I had to listen to you brag about it, I’d fucking kill you.  Because if it works, I’d rather live with the guilt myself,_  she thought to herself.  Out loud, she said, “Several reasons.”

     “Which are?” Ellen asked, her tone less hostile than Dean’s.

     “I have a better chance of sneaking up on him.  I also have a better chance of getting away alive if it doesn’t work.”

     “That’s bullshit,” Dean growled.  She fixed him with an icy glare.

     “I’m still being hunted by Heaven’s forces, Dean.  If by some miracle this  _does_  work, killing Lucifer sends a powerful message to the Host.  It’ll make them think twice about coming after me.”

     “She has a point, Dean,” Sam said quietly, making his brother glare at him darkly.  Kyra decided to pull out her trump card.

     “If it doesn’t work…if I fail for any reason…it’s gonna fall to all of you to get Sam out of there.”  She locked eyes with Dean.  “You can’t protect him if you’re dead.”

     And just like that, the switch was flipped.  Kyra knew that his ingrained protectiveness of his brother would outweigh any desire to be the one who pulled the trigger.  There was a moment of silence as they stared each other down.

     “All right…let’s get our gear ready, we’re moving in ten,” Dean finally said, pulling out the Colt.  After a moment of hesitation, he handed it to Kyra, his eyes sending a clear message:   _don’t miss._

     As they crept toward their destination, the Colt felt heavier in her hand with each step.  The weight of her conscience, however, made her want to scream.  After this, there was no turning back, no way to erase what she was going to do.  There would be no forgiveness for her actions—there would be consequences.

     For the first time in a long time, she prayed, hoping against hope that her prayer would be answered.

_God, please…don’t let this work.  Don’t let Lucifer die._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyra and the Winchesters confront Lucifer at William Jasper’s farm, but the plan doesn’t go the way the boys wanted or expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, the angst in this chapter wouldn’t let me go! Of course, that’s going to be nothing compared to the finale…*grins evilly* This one is a lot shorter than the last part, but I have a feeling that the last part will be pretty long. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Filling in a mass grave by hand hadn’t been something Lucifer had ever thought he would find himself doing.  Sure, he could’ve had his demons do the work, but he needed  _something_  to occupy himself in the meantime.

     The demons stood silently at the bottom of the hill, sacrifices waiting patiently to do their part.  He welcomed the silence, but at the same time, it gave him far too much time to think.

     Damn it…this would’ve been so much easier if he never met Kyra.  There was something about her that he couldn’t figure out, but it kept drawing him closer.  She brought out feelings in him that he thought he would never feel again, and she did it without trying or expecting anything from him.  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the time they spent together.  She was the  _one_  living being that didn’t regard him as a monster, and it touched him in a way he couldn’t ignore or explain.

     “Hey!”  Sam’s shout broke him out of his thoughts, and he turned to face his true vessel.  The sound of his shotgun cocking echoed across the clearing as he came to a stop in the middle of the demons.  “You wanted to see me?”

     “Oh, Sam, you don’t need that gun here,” Lucifer said, smiling at the human’s bravery.  “You know I’d never hurt you…not really.”

     “You’ll never get the chance to,” an all too familiar voice answered about five feet to his left, making him freeze at the sound.

     Time seemed to slow down as he turned his head to look at Kyra.  On the outside, she looked calm, cool, and deadly—but beneath that, her true face was full of anguish as she pulled back the hammer of the pistol in her hand.  Her Grace was practically screaming her pain and guilt and  _shame_  at what she was doing.

     The sight made Lucifer’s Grace ache…but seeing her in that moment, any doubts he had of her true feelings for him evaporated.  If she felt nothing for him, then her Grace wouldn’t be screaming in agony now.

 _Lucifer, I’m sorry._   A jolt ran through his Grace at her quiet, tortured prayer…the first he had received in eons.   _Please forgive me._

     Lucifer felt like his heart was being relentlessly crushed.  All he wanted was to take her in his arms, to reassure and comfort her…but for the first time in his existence, he found himself too stunned to move.

     “Nothing personal,” she said out loud.  Somehow, she was still keeping up that mask of indifference—a charade for the sake of her friends.

     The sound of a gunshot rang out, and his head  _exploded_  with pain, knocking him senseless for a moment.  Holy hell, that fucking  _ **hurt**_!  It took a moment before he was able to breathe again, and he sucked in a shuddering breath, briefly surprised that he was lying on his back.  Christ, was this what humans felt when they had migraines?

     “Owwwwww!” he whined, struggling to climb back to his feet.  He raised his right hand to the bullet wound in his forehead, inspecting the blood on his fingers.  When he looked up at Kyra, she had taken several steps back.  Her outward face held a mixture of uncertainty and fear, but her Grace…her Grace was practically  _singing_  with relief.

     “Where did you get that?” he asked, curiosity in his tone.  Before anyone could speak, he threw a wink at Kyra where Sam couldn’t see, reassuring her that he understood, then brought his bloody fingers to the back of his left hand.  Instantly, Kyra vanished in a flash of Grace, flung away by the banishing sigil he had prepared.

     “What did you do to her, you son of a bitch?!” Dean demanded; Lucifer looked up to see him running from the tree line to stand next to his brother.

     “Oh, this?” he asked, holding up the back of his hand.  “You know, nephilim are such…tricky creatures.  The normal wards and sigils don’t work on them, so I had to get creative.  This will all be over long before she’ll be able to return to this place.  I’ll give her credit, though…she’s brave.”  He couldn’t help but smirk to himself as the image of her, fierce and deadly, replayed through his mind.  “And hot.”

     “You watch your mouth,” Dean growled, his expression just as pissed as Sam’s suddenly was.  Unfazed, he picked his shovel back up and started filling in the hole again.

     “Just an observation, boys.  No need to get angry about that,” he said, then paused and turned back to Sam, leaning on the handle of his shovel.  “I don’t suppose you’ll say yes here and now?  End this whole…tiresome discussion?”

     “It’s  _never_  gonna happen!” Sam insisted, fiery determination in his voice.  Lucifer chuckled and shook his head.

     “I know you hate me, Sam, but I _have_ to do this.  I  _have_ to.  You know, I don’t understand why you’re fighting  _me_ , of all people.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”  Sam’s words—so harsh, yet confused—brought all those old feelings to the surface, and Lucifer’s next words were spoken with more emotion than he had used before when talking to his true vessel.

     “I was a son.  A brother, like you—a younger brother.  And I had an older brother who I loved.  Idolized, in fact.  And one day, I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael…Michael turned on me.  Called me a freak…a monster.  And then, he beat me down.  All because I was different—because I had a mind of my own.  Tell me something, Sam…any of this sound familiar?”

      The expressions on the brothers’ faces were  _priceless_.  Sam looked like someone had stolen his favorite puppy, and Dean…well, Dean looked shaken and ashamed.  Good, he needed to—he was always a dick to Sam.  Lucifer threw a few more shovels full of dirt into the hole before he dropped the shovel again.

     “Now, you’ll have to excuse me.  Midnight is calling…and I have a ritual to finish.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rough landing, Kyra takes stock of her situation…but no matter how she looks at the situation, she just can’t see a bright side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it to the finale! YAY!!! This is far from the last story in this series, so don’t despair if the ending makes you sad. Enjoy! And if you like it, please leave a comment! They motivate me to keep writing!

     Banishing sigils  _sucked_.  That was the first thing that passed through Kyra’s mind as she crashed into unknown terrain with the force of a meteor strike.  Thankfully, her Grace had made her more durable physically; otherwise, her impact with the ground would’ve broken every bone in her body and killed her on the spot.

     It took her a moment to gather enough strength to pull herself onto her hands and knees.   _Fuck_ …between the sigil and the rough landing, she felt like she’d been hit by a truck.  While she studied her surroundings, she replayed the last few minutes in her mind, analyzing each millisecond.

     The memory made her dangerously nauseous.  God help her, she actually did it; she actually shot Lucifer!  It would’ve been easy to switch out the ammunition—to replace it with an identical but useless bullet—but  _no_ , she kept the original bullets in the Colt so that she could honestly tell the boys that she tried.  Her reason sounded hollow, even to her, but Sam and Dean would buy it.  No, she wasn’t concerned about what the Winchesters thought…not really.  What was making her tremble now was far worse.

     Sooner or later, Lucifer would come for her.  It wouldn’t matter that the Colt left no lasting damage; she had tried to kill him.  He wasn’t going to let that go; he wasn’t the type to forgive something like that.  In the course of five seconds, she had destroyed any chance she had of continuing their arrangement—he  _ **would**_  retaliate, and whatever form that took, she knew it would end bloody for her.

     The banishing sigil had thrown her for a loop, literally  _and_  figuratively.  Even with her power and training as a hunter, she was fairly certain that he could’ve killed her easily in a fight…so why use the sigil?  Well, that was easy enough to figure out.  He  _was_  working under a tight deadline, after all.  He probably decided to avoid the possibility of her stalling him long enough to ruin his ritual to raise Death.

     But…why did he  _wink_  at her?  She’d been so wound up at the time, she wasn’t able to sense the emotions behind the action.  Was he showing off?  Bragging about his invulnerability?  Flirting?  Was it a silent promise to return the favor?

     She closed her eyes, trying to force back her shame and heartbreak.  How she felt about Lucifer didn’t matter anymore—what she did was unforgivable.  He wouldn’t care how much she hated herself; it wouldn’t matter that she was starting to fall for him.

     Suddenly, all the stress and grief and shame and guilt of the last three days became too much, and she started crying.  Tears ran freely down her face as she mourned the loss of her strange relationship with the fallen archangel.  Sobs threatened to choke her as they fought to escape her chest.  To her, there was no shame in her present state, but she was still thankful to be alone at the moment.

     When her tears ran dry, she forced herself to focus.  She had been out in the open for too long; she needed to get somewhere safe,  _now_.  Using her battered Grace to clean herself up, she flew to the one place she could take shelter for the moment.

     Landing in the living room, she found Gabriel sitting in a chair in the dark.  He took one look at her and jumped up, then pulled her into a tight hug that she returned.

     “Christ, Kyra, I was worried about you!  Are you okay?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.  “You look like hell.”

     She sighed heavily.  “Nephilim banishing sigil,” she explained, making him nod in understanding.  “I’ll be okay…I just need to lay low and rest for awhile.”

     “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.  I’ll be here.”  He turned on the lights and gave her a look that she didn’t recognize.

     “What is it, Gabe?”

     He exhaled slowly.  “Actually, we  _do_  need to talk, Kyra,” he said, motioning for her to sit in the chair he had vacated.

     “What about?” she asked, slightly uneasy as she relaxed into the seat. He pulled a chair up to sit directly in front of her.

     “Kyra, look…I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with,” he began, looking nervous.  “I thought a lot about what you said when you left…and you’re right.  I just wanted to keep you safe, but keeping you shut in like I have isn’t the answer.  I don’t…I don’t want you to end up hating me for that.”

     Gabriel’s words made Kyra’s already bruised heart ache even more.  Her hand found his, and he gently squeezed it.  “What are you saying?”

     He smiled softly at her.  “You’re family, Kyra, and I love you.  I want you to be safe, but I also want you to be happy…and if hunting is what keeps you happy, then that’s what you should do.”

     A jolt ran through her at his warmth and sincerity.  “Really?”

     Her reaction made him chuckle.  “I thought you’d be a little more excited, but I guess that banishing sigil still has you pretty drained,” he joked.  “But yes, really.  I mean, I wouldn’t be hunting  _with_  you—it’s kind of boring to me.  But I want you to know that if you run into any trouble with the God Squad, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll show up.  Deal?”

     As she stared at her forefather, she felt the urge to cry all over again.  He had no idea that Heaven wasn’t her biggest problem anymore, and she didn’t want to burst his bubble.  It would hurt him badly enough when her consequences came banging on her door; she couldn’t ask him to choose between her and his brother.

     “Deal,” she said quietly, making him smile.

     “Now get some rest, kiddo,” he told her, letting go of her hand and turning the TV on.

     Rest actually sounded like a good idea.  She got up to walk to the bedroom, then hesitated in the doorway.  When she looked back, Gabriel looked up from the screen and caught her gaze.  A moment later, she felt his Grace brush her face in a gentle caress.

     “I’m not going anywhere, Kyra,” he assured her, making her nod slowly.

     “I think…once I’m rested up, I’ll go ahead and head out,” she told him softly.  It was safer for Gabriel if they weren’t together when Lucifer found her.  He nodded at her words, then turned his attention back to the TV.  Now that the air had been cleared between them from their argument, it was nice to have Gabriel nearby.

     After getting comfortable in the bed, Kyra couldn’t help but feel horrible for lying to Gabriel.  She did intend to leave, but she doubted she would be safe once she did.

     Sure, she could stand and fight when Lucifer inevitably found her…but she didn’t have the heart to do that.  No…whatever he chose to do to her, she wouldn’t run, or fight, or call for help.  She had to face the consequences.  She  _ **deserved**_  it.

_**The End...for now** _


End file.
